Chrysanthemums for Pasha In a building, at an open window, an old lady watches her cat take his usual route, sloping along the guttering below, onto the neighbour’s shed roof, before dropping out of sight at the far side. She leaves the window ajar so that Pasha can let himself back in and picks up… Read more: Crysanths for Pasha

Liam turned on his pillow to face the door. It always came through the door when he wasn’t looking, when his eyes were closing with sleep. He scattered toys on the floor so he would hear if it tried to sneak up on him, but his mother always tidied them away when she looked in… Read more: A safe place

Minotaur “So, where do we put ’em?” “What?” “Them, the stiffs.” The young man glanced suspiciously up at the monolithic openings in the cliff face with their smooth slabs and plinths carved from a single block of stone. “Don’t tell me we’re supposed to stick ’em up there!” He jerked his chin in the direction… Read more: Minotaure

A short but true story. The young mother spied the soft toy lying on a bollard and she snatched it up. “Why would anybody dump such a cute cuddly toy?” she asked nobody in particular in a loud voice. “Some kid dropped it out of the buggy, probably, “ the young father said, “and someone… Read more: Mamma Dog

The Oracle didn’t send this one, or if she did, it was without me consulting her. Life is so busy at present; I’m juggling too many projects, too many visitors, and several back issues over the last three weeks. Excuses, I know, so here is the poem I wrote for yesterday’s Broken Spine prompt (blood),… Read more: For this one night

I don’t know if I ever mentioned this, but I wrote a book about Pasiphaë, taking apart the nasty Greek myth and putting it back together in a plausible historical context. Legend Press are publishing it next February, and it’s currently on promotional pre-order at Waterstones. Offer runs until the 19th, so anyone in the… Read more: New book on pre-order!

I haven’t been keeping up with this blog lately. Too many other commitments that eat away at my time. I have missed two weeks of the Oracle’s advice and will remedy that as soon as I get a minute. In the meantime, this is an excerpt from The Darkest Tide, introducing one of my favourite… Read more: Arawn

Today is release day for the first book in the Ys trilogy, an alternate 10th Century historical fantasy. It’s published by Northodox Press and you can order a paperback copy here.: https://www.northodox.co.uk/product-page/the-darkest-tide-paperback-pre-orderhttps://www.northodox.co.uk/post/marriages-and-moonstones-by-jane-dougherty the ebook here: https://www.northodox.co.uk/product-page/the-darkest-tide-ebook-pre-order There’s also a short story set in the world of Ys that you can read on the publisher’s blog… Read more: The Darkest Tide release day!

After Carrickfergus A wish is lostin the ocean sleeping,and ships that sail never bring love back;the summer’s past, for all my weeping,and roses fall in winter’s frost. A wish is deadas soon as spoken,and I would follow if I could.The word you gave me then is broken,and I cannot see the way ahead. For the… Read more: After Carrickfergus

I’ve been monumentally busy, but the Oracle is always ready to listen when we ask. This poem uses almost all the words she gave me. Not sure what the message is, but I’m listening. Dusk, before winter The ache you left, how deep does it go,deep as death?And the chanting beneath the night cloudsis it… Read more: Dusk, before winter

I haven’t posted here for a while; life has been busy and tiring. Time to hear what the Oracle has to say about things, and, as usual, she already knows the news. Not anyone I knew personally, but a mother is a mother. A piece of news, soft and sad The words blow away in… Read more: A piece of news, soft and sad

I missed posting last week though I did consult the Oracle and did write a poem. We had one of the children staying for a few days, it was fierce hot, and I was struggling with a new round of line edits. I sent off the corrections yesterday (finally), so it’s time to catch up.… Read more: The dimming of the light

The poem the Oracle gave me was to be expected. Burning Death drips slow as honey from this melting sky,and the day-lit moon dissolves like a pearl in acid. I watch yellow leaves drift in a restless breeze,hot as deserts that pulls this way then that,but always away from the green that fadeslike a childhood… Read more: Burning

This feels like a draft or the start of something. The Oracle gave me just the first line, so I might not have finished with this one yet. Slipping away The lake bends the blue of its arm out of sight,not beckoning,holding a secret in tight-closed fist. Is it the heart of summer, she wonders,wrapped… Read more: Slipping away